I hug her back and laugh. “It’s only been two weeks, Jilly! You act like you haven’t seen me in months.”
She steps back letting us pass through the front door, “Yeah I know. It just gets so boring with just Mom and Dad here.”
I set my backpack down on the high end marble flooring and notice Winston, our white Siamese, slinking around the corner curiously looking at my bag. “What about Winston?”
“What about Winston? He is a cat, El. It isn’t like I can talk to it.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically and crosses one leg in front of the other, folding her arms roughly. I can’t help but smile at her angsty teenage posture.
I pick up Winston just as he rubs his jaw against my backpack. He lets out a low meow. “Sure you can. See?” I hold him close, his face next to mine, and move his small white paw in a waving motion to Jilly. Clearing throat, I throw my voice, “Hi, Jilly. Will you please talk to me? I am so lonely.”
She rolls her eyes again and giggles. “You are crazy, El.”
Natalie passes in front of me, lacing her arm through Jilly’s, pulling her away from me and Winston deeper into the pretentious abode my parents have surrounded themselves with. “So, tell me how everything went.”
I put Winston down and follow after them as they walk through the lavish foyer. “How what went?”
Natalie glances back at me briefly before she tosses her head back. “Seriously, El. Debutante? Hello? What is going on with you today, El?”
She moves on with Jilly by her side. “I am so excited for you. Have you decided on your dress? I remember when...”
I feel a burn in my stomach twisting and gnawing as Natalie reminisces about her fucking debutante days to Jilly.
Natalie stops in the living room and pulls Jilly into a delicate hug. “You are going to have the time of your life, Jilly, mark my word.”
Jilly nods as Nat disappear through the dining room doorway. “Hi, Mom. Dad.”
With her gone, Jilly and I look at each other. She is still smiling, but it is different than the one she gave Nat just now. “Is it really going to be the time of my life, El?”
I don’t know if she remembers much about the night of my debutante ball. It was rightfully overshadowed by Grandma Wallace’s passing. I badly want to tell her not to do it, not to give in to what they expect of her. Instead, I lock arms with her, walking side by side into the dining room. I don’t want to change her mind, but I also don’t want to glorify it like Nat and Mom obviously have. “Jilly, just take it with a grain of salt. It is just a dance. Plus, it’s like six months away.”
“I know, but Mom and Nat talk about it all the time,” Jilly whispers to me, just as Nat comes into sight sitting to the left of Dad, still dressed in his suit. Mom is buzzing around in a dress and heels as she sets the table. A suit and dress attire isn’t what you would expect at a normal family dinner, but sophistication always trumped normalcy in this household. Jilly and I were the only two under dressed for this joyous occasion. I pull her close and lower my voice. “Jilly, just don’t try to be someone else for them. You are perfect the way you are.”
She pulls back and smiles softly, her blue-gray Grandma Wallace eyes thanking me before the words pass her lips. “Thanks, El. I won’t.”
I let her go and move to the opposite side of the table just as Mom stops me by the shoulders, air kissing me. “Hi, honey. What were you two whispering about over there?”
Mom doesn’t wait for my response as she continues to buzz around the table, straightening napkins and silverware.
“Nothing.”
Jilly and I exchange a quick glance at each other as we sit.
Dad is talking to Nat intently, barely acknowledging me. “Ella.”
“Hi, Dad.”
That is about as tender as our greetings get nowadays.
Dad takes the lid off the dish to his right. “Mmm. Chicken stroganoff!”
I smile, remembering how much I love Mom’s chicken stroganoff. She hasn’t made it in years.
“Isn’t that your favorite, El?” Natalie asks as she takes the dish from Dad to get her serving.
I take the dish of green bean casserole Mom is passing me. “Yeah, it is.”
I notice Mom smile. “I figured why not. It has been a while since I made it. Just thought it would be nice.”
Mom can definitely cook, but one thing she was really bad at was lying. I look across the table at Nat, who is busy pouring herself a glass of wine, giving me a level eye and smirk.
The sound of silver forks and knives tapping porcelain plates fills the room, as the tension in my stomach rises.
Fuck it.
“What’s the special occasion?”
Dad wipes his mouth with his napkin, reaches for the bottle of Pinot Grigio and pours me a serving. “New opportunities, new endeavors. Let’s just enjoy this meal, shall we?”
Dad sounds genuine, not wanting to rush into a discussion, which makes me consider the offer even more.
Taking the glass of wine, I nod then take a hefty sip as the conversation starts around me.
Mom talks about Tibby Nelson, president of the Junior League of Washington, and how she is finally going to relinquish her position and pass the torch to Mom. Dad congratulates her and, right on his coattails, Nat tells Mom how she is so happy for her, but not without asking if there are any open chair positions she could inquire about. Jilly talks about her day, the exam she needs to study for, and the term paper she is struggling to complete on landfill issues. Dad gives her the “just stay focused and power through” talk just as Nat forms a link of commonality with Jilly’s term paper and her striving to get the acknowledgment she rightly deserves at her internship.
“Natalie, you are very lucky to have found the internship. Don’t burn any bridges,” Dad warns as he sits back, savoring his wine.
Nat tilts her head; she does that when she gets pissed at him. “I don’t intend on burning any bridges. The internship is over in three months.”
Dad sets his glass down and folds his hands in his lap as he feeds her his thoughts. “And then you are done. You will have experience behind you to use for your career.”
She nods, fiddling with the edge of the butter knife.
“Have you been in contact with Hank Bristol?” my father asks.
Hank Bristol is uncle to Jasper Bristol, and great uncle to Logan Bristol. Hank is also the owner of one of the biggest corporations in America, Bristol Holdings.
Nat stops fiddling and folds her hands together in her lap. “Yes, I have. We had lunch last week.”
Dad sets his glass down. “Good. Just put on your charm and your Wallace confidence and you will do fine, Natalie,” he says, smiling. It is obvious Dad has swooped down and positioned Nat in a job. She is glowing, having Dad’s full attention and approval, until she shifts her gaze to me; it quickly fades as she realizes I have seen through their conversation.
She brings the rim of her wine glass to her lips, sipping generously. “What about you, El? Anything to talk about? New possibilities?”
Well played, Nat.
I reach for the bottle of wine as everyone’s eyes shift to me. “No, just wrapping up classes, getting ready for finals.”
“How are your grades?” Mom asks.
As I continue to pour a robust serving, I nod. “Good.”
Nat probes, putting me back in the spotlight, “What are your plans for the summer, El?”
I’m about to tell them I don’t have any when Dad clears his throat. “Well, I suppose this is a perfect time to discuss a proposal I have for you, Ella.”
Nat looks at Dad, Jilly, then Mom with pure surprise, acting like she has no idea what he is talking about. Dad angles his body toward me. “Now I know you and I haven’t seen eye to eye on many things lately, but I want you to know I respect what you have accomplished.”
Is he complimenting me? If I could see myself now, my jaw is probably hanging on the floor.
His tone chang
es suddenly. “Ella Marie, I won’t pretend that it has been easy to sit back and watch you struggle. Your mother and I have wanted to step in many times and I know I have been demanding on several occasions trying to talk you into letting us help you.”
He pauses for a moment, appearing to collect himself, then clears his throat as he leans his elbows onto the table. “Tonight, I am offering not with an ultimatum or demand, like I have so many times before.”
I would be lying if I said his expression of emotions isn’t making me consider what he plans to propose. It is said to be innate in politicians to have top-notch negotiating skills. This could be the case, or maybe the effects of a glass of wine before dinner. Either way, he has my attention.
“Your mother and I had dinner with Jasper and Liz Bristol a few nights ago.”
Before Dad can go on Mom interrupts, “Remember how we used to have family dinner with them years ago, El? Natalie, Jilly, you and Logan. You two ... Ellie and Logie.” Her voice drifts off as she smiles and looks down at her food before she takes a small bite of stroganoff.
I know she is angling for me to take a walk down memory lane, but I’m not into it. Daydreaming about Logan Bristol is long gone, a past I would prefer not remembering.
Seeing my lack of enthusiasm, her smile fades as she continues, “Anyway, Jasper asked about you specifically, right, Byron?”
Dad sets his wine glass down. “Yes, he has a paid internship available through his law firm and he thought you would be perfect.”
How would Jasper know if I were perfect for an internship? I haven’t seen him since my senior year in high school, and the way I ended things with his son cold turkey, I would expect him to remember me as the girl who hurt his precious son’s ego, not perfect for a paid internship at his multi-million-dollar law firm.
Dad continues to sell the offer. “I told Jasper you were an English major and law wasn’t something you were aiming for. Still, he insisted I tell you about it since the internship was research based and you would be working alongside law students. With this being a paid internship, maybe it could help alleviate some of your expenses with the apartment, food, etcetera.”
“Who knows, it might give you some direction for your future.” As soon as Mom speaks, she backpedals. “I mean, more options.”
Nat speaks up, “El, opportunities like this don’t come around every day. He is asking specifically for you.”
I have had two glasses of wine on a near-empty stomach, but I’m still able to see through the bullshit being served. What is Jasper Bristol’s angle in all of this? I know Dad’s and Mom’s is to give me direction because they feel I am fucking flailing here through the last year and a half of college. Yeah, it is true, but I’m not going to fucking admit it to them; I have my pride.
Nat purposefully goads, “You would have to be crazy to not consider this. I mean the only other paid internship he has offered was to his son, so he must think highly of you.”
Of course! There it is! The ultimate reason for this offer! Insert Logan Bristol, the one they all think I let get away.
“She is right, Ella. Logan was offered the same internship a year ago, just before he started law school. I believe he is still working there. Byron?” Mom asks.
The clarity is blinding.
“Yes, Nan. He is still there and showing great promise of heading the firm once Jasper retires.” Dad doesn’t dare look at me as he seasons the offer with show of Logan’s ability to provide greatly for a token wife, AKA me.
I pick up the bottle of pinot grigio and pour as I respond to their strategic proposal. “I’m not interested.”
You aren’t even going to think about it?” Dad’s aghast laughter is all too familiar; years of disappointment with me has been great practice at perfecting it.
“Ella Marie.” Mom’s tone is saturated with criticism and disappointment. “Don’t rush into any decisions without thinking this through.”
“You need to think about it, El,” Nat adds. “I mean, what else are you going to do this summer? You haven’t attempted to look at any other internship options.”
I take a long drink of my wine and think of the option that opened up to me today. “Yes, I have actually, Natalie.” My voice slurs her name a little; the sweet elixir is doing its job nicely.
Dad sits back in his chair arrogantly and folds his hands together, resting his elbows on the arms of it. “What do you plan to do this summer that could possibly give you opportunities like Jasper Bristol’s?”
“I plan to go abroad and teach English.”
You know the dizzy feeling you get when you have said something you know is going to lead to more chaotic bullshit? Yeah, I just did it.
The resounding “What?” from Dad, Mom, Nat, and Jilly obliterates my confidence. I take another savory drink of my wine before I state my case. “You asked if I had plans giving me opportunity. I believe this program will open doors for me.”
Did I really believe it? Huh. It’s funny how alcohol can bring clarity and make you say what you really feel.
I lean back in my chair and stare back at the eight eyes targeting me, confused and bewildered.
Dad’s eyes bounce from Mom to me. “And this program will pay you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You aren’t sure?” Mom asks, then Dad chimes in, “Did you not think to ask such an important question?”
“Ella, if this program doesn’t pay, it is a waste of time and energy.” Nat’s superficial logic is a typical response, but it still fucking pisses me off.
“I don’t think you have much to go on, Nat.”
“Well, she has a point, Ella.” His chuckle is patronizing. “I mean, how long have you considered this program? Did you just up and decide this weeks ago, days, hours?” His voice is getting louder as his own scenario of what I have considered to do this summer eats away at him.
“So typical!” Dad heatedly tosses his napkin onto the table.
My lips finally loosen to his rant. “Typical, disappointing Ella, right?”
“Byron,” Mom warns, sensing the slow build of tension between him and me. “Jilly, help me clear the dishes, honey.”
Jilly puts her napkin onto the table and pushes out her chair slowly.
“Jilly,” Mom says more curtly now, moving her into motion as she collects her dish.
“It is typical for you to turn your back on something valuable, like a paid internship that could become something ... more,” Dad says.
“Like a potential partnership with Logan Bristol. Playing matchmaker with the two high school sweethearts. This isn’t fucking high school and I have no plans on returning to that time in my life, thanks!”
Dad pushes back from the table, shaking his head at me. “That is not what this is about, Ella.”
Nat makes sure to say her peace. “Seriously, El, you are being so dramatic. After how you acted with Logan, you should be thankful Mr. Bristol is considering this internship for you.”
I peer straight into her eyes. “Thankful?”
As I rise from the table, Dad starts in. “Where do you think you are going? This conversation isn’t over!”
“Yes, it is!”
I place my napkin on the table just as Mom walks back into the room. “Ella, don’t leave like this, please.”
She shakes her head and furrows her brow as she starts collecting utensils from the table. “Volunteering abroad? A foreign country? You aren’t thinking straight. Let’s just sit down and talk this through, logically.”
I look from Mom to Dad, then to Nat, taking turns shooting daggers at each of them. “Oh, I’m thinking straight, but just to humor you, answer one question for me. Is Logan Bristol one of the law students I will be working with at Bristol Law Group?”
Their silence is the most honest they have been all night.
“I take that as a yes.” I move around Mom, and just as I get to the open doorway, Dad calls after me.
“You are still throwing your
life away on ignorant decisions, Ella. After three years of struggling, trying to make your own way to prove some kind of point to us, throwing the help we offer back in our faces, and not having any direction for your life, you still do not get it! You are a Wallace, like it or not! No matter how much you fight it, eventually you are going to realize the mistake you are making! I am giving you every opportunity to save face!”
I stop in my tracks, turn on him, and snicker, “Save face?”
He retaliates immediately, “Yes, and you just throw it away, choosing to go to another country to volunteer over taking a paid internship! Okay, enlighten me! What are you going to do there? You will be working for free and live in meager surroundings at best. You will be putting your life in danger! Tell me, where will this ‘philanthropic’ mission take you? Where are you going since you have thought this through so thoroughly?”
I shoot back from the hip, “I have options. Chile, Morocco, Jordan.”
His eyebrows rise high on his forehead as his jaw works overtime, pushing a bitter scoff from his mouth. “Jordan! Perfect, the Middle East! Do you realize what is going on over there? The fighting, the terror? Hell, our military troops are leaving, refugees fleeing the civil war and unrest and here you are blindly going over there to teach English!” His face has reddened to a ruby tone I have only seen when he has reached a level of anger nothing can stop.
Nat makes sure to include her two cents. “Terrorists, militants, poverty, war.”
Her list stirs the pot already boiling over for Dad. “I doubt you are aware of any of this. You aren’t aware of the most obvious gifts being handed to you right here by your own family! Tell me, Ella, what are you putting your life at risk for? What reward are you searching for by doing this? Because I can’t think of a single great fucking reward!”
“Byron, please,” my mom pleads for his language.
Cross the Stars (Crossing Stars #1) Page 3